Translucent
by Bishi-bishi
Summary: "A ghost quirk? That's really, really cool!" He brightens and you smile awkwardly. You didn't have a really, really cool quirk; you were just really, really dead. SI/OC
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

You were dead.

Your pale hand sits emptily in front of your gaze.

You _are_ dead, you correct yourself. It's as simple as that. Only, it wasn't so simple, considering your memories of your apparent death is as clear as mud. Everything about you is as clear as mud.

You look around the shady alleyway you stand upon and gather your thoughts. The alleyway is dingy and damp. There's no one around to see the vivid splatter of flesh beneath the soles of your shoes. It looks dried and rotten, but it does not tarnish your pristine brown _translucent_ shoes. Nothing. Your grey uniform is clean, crisp, and _translucent_.

Everything about you is translucent. Your whole person is translucent, and this doesn't bother you. The brick floor below you shows its desaturated colors through your feet and your hands. It's like piled on layers of tissue. Like a good pack of Kleenex, you add. Your hands feel light and feather-like to touch; almost nothing. You explore your surroundings further with muted senses. A glare of reflected light, and you see the outline of your appearance.

You look averagely Japanese at most. Your hair is kept to a short bob cut, with dark eyebrows on the thick side complimenting your tawny eyes. You're in some sort of uniform, but cannot remember what for. The gore behind you reflects on the glass, but you can't remember what happened.

You intently stare at your reflection, barely even a reflection, and really _wonder_.

What happened to you? Who are you?

You don't know your name, but you know what a Kleenex tissue feels like. Why is that?

You feel a burning sense of curiosity. It's better than feeling apathetic.

You begin walk out of the alleyway in search for answers.

* * *

Lol just posting a plot bunny for bnha. It's a first for me! I dont have an update sched for this, and have only a vague concept of the whole story proper. If I do write more, it'll mostly be in drabble format.

I would love to hear your thoughts about this!


	2. I-IV

**I.**

You are not the kindest person.

You learn this after few minutes walking amongst the busy crowd.

Your nose scrunches up at the sea of people. Businessmen, everywhere. Children and teens, everywhere. To you, they're like annoying cloud of bees making ruckus to an otherwise okay day. They're all irritatingly joyous, and you're oozing with bad vibes. Your irritability also starts irritates you. Why are you so cranky? It doesn't take an effort to think ill of every person that has phased through you.

Yes, people _phase_ through you.

At first, it had shaken you. It felt like the wind got knocked out of you, then forced its way back into your lungs. You experience this every time an unsuspecting pedestrian walks through you.

At first, it brought your knees, gasping for the lost air, then heaving for its sudden presence.

At first, you didn't get up for the longest time, not because you were disoriented; rather, the weight of not being at the same plane as the living hit you harder than ever. While you sat there on the concrete sidewalk, your mind spun with hundreds of questions. You felt sick. Were you even able to vomit?

You sat on the sidewalk, dry heaving anyway.

You grimace at the memory. No wonder you're so angry at the world.

That's one thing, but another thing was that you think you can be seen. You _believe_ you can be seen. The glass pane can't lie. You saw your reflection. But, you suppose, the bright sun in this fine day makes you less opaque than ever. The blur of the ever moving crowd makes you blend in more than ever.

This conclusion makes you scowl more than ever.

A frown amongst the moving crowd, you walk and walk aimlessly with a mind plagued with a thousand questions and no cure.

And then finally, you arrive _somewhere_.

* * *

 **II.**

The guy you're currently following is talking your ear off.

He and you bumped into each other. More accurately, he went _through_ you. Thankfully, you were used to it, enough to not be a heaving mess on the floor. You expected him to walk as if nothing happened, as if he didn't cause your insides to squelch uncomfortably. But surprisingly, he heard the groan that escaped your lips and sharply turned to find the source.

He was rubbing his arms you noted. He was using his hand to rub the sleeve of his uniform, _which matched yours_ , you noted.

You also remember noting the shell shocked face he made when you locked eyes with him.

"Um... nice uniform," you worded out.

"U-Uniform...?" He stuttered confusedly. Damn. Maybe your shouldn't've opened your mouth.

"O-Oh!" You saw the realization flood his eyes. "You're a student at Yuuei too? W-What year are you in? I'm a freshman!"

 _Yoo-ay_? The hell is that?

"Oh, uhh, yeah. I'm new too." You lied through your teeth.

"U-um, I'm Midoriya Izuku; w-what's your name? If y-you don't mind me asking, of course..."

You regretted speaking with this awfully polite boy. What were you supposed to tell him? You woke up with less opacity than normal in an alleyway and can't remember anything?

Yeah, no.

You inwardly panicked, but your face remained expressionless as ever. Meanwhile, he started looking panicked in an apologetic way.

You can't lose this chance, you realize. He might lead you to useful information; to this _Yoo-ay_ thing that you're apparently involved in. You can't back out now. You're dead, what do you have to lose?

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"My name's Kleenex."

"L-Like the tissue brand?"

"Yeah."

"O-Oh."

And so now you're following Midoriya into an unknown building, that's apparently not unknown to the previously-living you. He's a total hero nerd, and he's doing all the talking between you and him. You can tell by his glances that he's uncomfortable with your silence, but you have the courtesy to nod at appropriate places, even if your head isn't entirely in the one-sided conversation. You find that Midoriya doesn't mind this, and continues talking.

He's a bundle of chatter and jittery nerves, but he's the best shot you've got.

* * *

 **III.**

Your eyes flit at the commotion in the room. Moments ago, Midoriya was fretting over how you didn't remember what class section you belonged. Heck, moments ago you didn't know what a _class_ was.

It takes you a classroom drama for you to remember what a _school_ is.

Midoriya enters and the whole room stares. A guy in glasses approaches him. There's even a blonde person glaring daggers at Midoriya's general direction. You could almost see the flashback happening before his eyes, as his eyes seem to narrow even more in anger.

Huh. You wonder what makes him the frown amongst the crowd.

"It's you! Curly-head kid!"

Your train of thought halts as a person passes through you.

God _dammit_. You swear to never stand by doors, ever.

Midoriya seems to notice your stricken expression, and bursts into a fumbling mess.

"A-ah! You just p-passed through Kleenex!"

Glasses boy and bob cut lady looks confused.

"Like the tissue?", they ask.

"Yeah, like the tissue.", I affirm for the second time of the day.

I guess it was funny, the way they jumped, mouth opened to a not so soundless scream. Then they apologized for being rude. You're surprised by this. Maybe it's a student thing to be polite.

They introduce themselves to you. You don't and they don't mind, you guess. You learn to call them by Iida and Uraraka. Iida looks at you curiously, and Uraraka is happy to acquaint herself with another female.

For the first time since waking up, you weren't such a frown amongst the crowd.

"If you're gonna be looking for buddies do it elsewhere.", a voice from below grumbles.

He's your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta. He looks like shit.

Your teacher starts explaining something. Department of Heroics? Quirk apprehension test? You regard his words with the littlest care. You want to search for answers, not play around in school.

You're ready to leave when Aizawa-sensei thrusts a uniform to your general direction. You stare at it.

"Wear these. Immediately. And then shove off to the P.E. grounds."

You don't make a move. He starts looking mildly irritated.

"Well?"

"Yep, got it sir," you acquiesce, but you don't take the uniform. You're worried. What if objects phase through you too?

Aizawa-sensei doesn't get to react because Midoriya snatches the uniform his grasp and laughs awkwardly; an attempt to placate the tension. He meekly apologizes to Aizawa's retreating back on your behalf.

"U-Um..." he hands over your uniform and mumbles. "You should get changed."

"Yeah. Until I figure out how to."

"Eh?"

Your hands phase through the uniform. You sigh.

No changing clothes for you, it seems.

* * *

 **IV.**

With your almost weightlessness, you finish the track trial in six seconds. It's nothing, really. You just flung yourself across the track, and was unsurprised that air resistance didn't affect you.

Midoriya and the others crowd you. Iida eyes your form with intense fascination, and Uraraka gushes over you.

"What's your quirk? Being like a flying tissue? A _ghost_ maybe?"

"It looked like you were _flying_! That was amazing!"

"A ghost quirk? That's really, really cool!" Midoriya brightens and you smile awkwardly. You didn't have a really, really cool quirk; you were just really, really dead.

You don't correct him and play along.

"Yeah. A ghost quirk."

You go through the trials and see Aizawa-sensei glare at your direction. He eyed your appearance. You were still in your standard school uniform and the grip measuring device fell uselessly on the ground.

Whatever sensei. It's not like you can do anything about it.

But he seems to expect you to be able to do something about it. He's your homeroom teacher and he knows about you more than yourself. Your eyes narrow eyes at him.

 _Come on. Call my attention. Say my name. Tell me what I'm supposed to be doing._

This hope is snuffed as he huffs and writes you a zero for grip strength. You failed all the trials involving objects. You did well with the other trials, staying in the norm for people with quirks.

This won't salvage your score.

Although, you don't care about the expulsion ultimatum, really. You're too dead to be concerned with hero school and graduating.

You sit on the floor and watch the happenings unfold. Aizawa-sensei can erase quirks. Midoriya broke his finger, and this apparently isn't new. The angry blonde guy is mad at the world, but at Midoriya specifically.

You sit on the floor with the plague in your mind keeping you company.

A thousand of unanswered and ignored questions flit through your head. You regard only one with curiosity.

What was your quirk? Your real quirk?

How did you use it to pass the entrance exams? Did you smash through the attacking machines like Midoriya? Were you able to run at high speeds like Iida? You ponder briefly if you can make yourself float like Uraraka.

"... being the lowest in the class," you snap out of your reverie.

"Hitsuji Yumeko, you're expelled from Yuuei Academy."

Everyone snaps their gaze to you. You sit there, blinking slowly. Sucks to be Hitsuji, you yawn.

It takes you a while to notice the pitying expressions of your classmates.

"What?"


	3. V-VIII

**V.**

Hitsuji Yumeko.

It means sheep. It means the child of dreams.

From how Aizawa-sensei was staring unimpressed at you, it seems like this was your name. You're not sure what to think of your name, but there's an uncertain churn in your gut. Something doesn't feel right with your name. The whispers around you aren't really whispers anymore and you don't get up from the floor. You don't do anything. What were you supposed to do? Iida is in the corner of your eye, staring at you confusedly. Wasn't your name Kleenex, you hear him mumble. Midoriya and Uraraka looks confused _and_ devastated. This was turning awkward for you real fast. You open you mouth, and opt to address something more important.

"My friends call me Kleenex," you lie and stare directly at the three. Maybe it would erase some of the confusion swirling in their worried eyes. You guess it kind of did, since Iida kind of scrunched up his nose and relaxed into an 'oh huh ok' sort of face. Midoriya and Uraraka's faces still look stricken and worried- _but_ not confused.

Good enough, you think.

"Hitsuji Yumeko," Aizawa-sensei calls your attention. "Your track, standing long jump, side step trials and what not were above average at best; but you scored absolutely zero on trials that required objects to be handled."

That's true. You don't correct him or say anything. How could throw the ball when you couldn't hold it in the first place? You know where this is going, but there's not a bit of rising panic from you. Although, the same cannot be said for the three people you've acquainted with, fidgeting from the corner of your eye.

"I can kick out any student here with a half-assed dream. Yuuei Academy isn't a school for those with half-assed dreams."

Forget being half-assed, you didn't even _have_ a dream. Maybe once, you did. Maybe when you had flesh instead of this wispy form, you did. But that's gone now; forgotten and hidden somewhere in the labyrinth of your mind. You don't know if you'll ever find it.

"You have zero chances of being a hero. On a normal day, I'd say you're even _below_ zero. Negative."

 _"A person like you can never be a hero."_

"Are you even trying?"

 _"Are you?"_

What the hell was that.

Your hackles rise. You're furious and something within you boils and overflows. What the fuck is wrong with him, you ask yourself. How could he say that? How could he say that? _After all you've done?_

There's a ball in your chest, and it's filled with anger, hurt, and confusion. You don't know why you're mad, and frankly you don't care about the reason. Reason can't get through you at this point. You're a ball of irrational anger wishing to tear, disfigure, and maim. You want him to take it back. Your eyes sharpen like poisonous blades. Your insides riot. You don't deserve to hear those words.

You don't notice how you leap across the courtyard like a pressured spring released. You don't notice how you close the distance between you and Aizawa-sensei in a blink of an eye, while some of your classmates scramble to restrain you. Not fast enough, though. Ribbons of white stretch forth to apprehend you, but they swoosh through you like air. Your fist meets Aizawa-sensei's blocking hand, and all is silent.

 _This_ , you notice.

You stand there with the surprise of a lifetime _(after-lifetime?)_ , and Aizawa-sensei grins a winning grin.

Your fist _met_ Aizawa-sensei's hand and you _freak_ out. Your classmates are _freaking_ out.

 _"Kleenex!"_

 _"Oh my god! Kleenex tried to punch_ the _Eraserhead!"_

"Kleenex! What do you think you're doing, attacking a teacher?!"

"Che, what a prissy bitch."

More murmurs and surprised shouts.

You stare at Aizawa-sensei's face for another good few seconds before phasing through him completely, and falling flat on your face.

"Well, that had been interesting."

You had no comeback. You were still busy trying to recover from the fact you were solid, like you had _flesh_ , like you weren't this wispy magical being that's almost invisible in sunlight. This changes everything for you. You could've shoved all those assholes from the sidewalk earlier.

"Oh yeah, that whole 'expulsion' thing was a lie."

You stared dumbfounded.

"It was a logical ruse to pull out your best performances. Even if some of us needed a bit more pushing," Aizawa-sensei wears the most shit-eating grin ever. You wanted to scream.

What a dick.

* * *

 **VI.**

"D-Deku?"

"Yeah! Isn't that what that Bakugou kid called you?

"Actually, he calls him fuckmunch." You chip in Midoriya's and Uraraka's exchange. "And shitrag too."

You learn that the angry blond haired kid's name is Bakugou, and he calls his childhood friend by insults. You frown. He was a prissier bitch than you. And violently angrier.

"So. Do your friends really call you Kleenex?"

You're walking home with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. They're recapping what happened earlier with enthusiasm, or at least Uraraka was. Midoriya still looked a bit worn out, and Iida asked you his burning question. You guess being named after a tissue brand really bothered him.

"Yeah, maybe."

You're not sure if you had friends. Do not-so-nice people have friends? Do you think friends would call you ridiculous names like that? You try to imagine it instead.

"I guess asshole friends would call me that," you shrug.

The three never fail to look appalled at the crudeness of your language. You don't really care to censor yourself. All the possible care you could give came in the form of a flying fist towards your homeroom teacher; a fist that actually _connected_ his palm. You stare at your hand for the umpteenth time and relive the feeling inside your head. Your head is filled with that sensation of solidness and its presence of force. Your head relives the burning anger you didn't know you were capable of. It loops and spins through your head like a carousel- it's the closest thing to feeling alive again.

"D-Do you mind if we call you Hitsuji instead?" Midoriya's eyes inquire meekly through the thick messy bush of his hair. Such politeness.

You hum and shrug. "Call me whatever you'd like."

Midoriya and Iida settles for Hitsuji, and Uraraka braves for Yumeko. She bounces with happiness when you nod indifferently and call her Ochako in exchange. It's nothing big, it's just that Uraraka was a mouthful for your slothful tongue.

The three leaves one by one and you're left alone to wander aimlessly.

When you're alone, the plague in your head with no cure makes itself known.

 _Hitsuji Yumeko._

 _It means sheep. It means child of dreams._

It's a name you're not sure you own.

You repeat this in your head; ten times, a hundred times, until a seed of doubt plants itself deep in your mind's crevices. You met Midoriya by chance. You went into 1-A's classroom _by chance_. Aizawa-sensei didn't protest your presence, but he has only seen 1-A for the first time today. How could he have known what Hitsuji Yumeko looked like? Your worries grow even larger, and it's spiraling out of control. Were you being an imposter? A cruel replacement for an otherwise absent, missing student? If any, _you_ were the missing student. You're a dead, missing student. Your chest tightens with a sinking realization.

You are a dead, missing student on the first day of school. What has happened to your parents? Are they looking for you? Do they know that you're dead, and merely a spirit now? Of course not. You shake your head. Of course not. They don't know, and nobody knows but you. The night grows deeper and you're not at home to greet your mother and father, and this makes you sick. Thinking about your mother and father makes you sick.

You lie down on a patch of grass in a deserted neighborhood park. Under the millions of glittering stars, you lie there with question after question, and none answered.

* * *

 **VII.**

Was this some kind of joke?

You stare at the items on your desk.

After much deliberation, you got yourself up and went to school everyday anyway. Aizawa-sensei's indifference to your presence convinced you to wing it. You haven't gotten a wink of sleep- not like you can, though. The best you could do was close your eyes and let the nights pass by, but the plague in your head attacks much more viciously behind your closed eyelids. Forget even _blinking_. You spend your nights experimenting on your phantom form and watching the twinkling stars disappear into the daybreak.

That's why you're staring incredulously at the bottle of sleeping pills sitting on top of a neatly folded pair of pajamas. A cloud patterned, long sleeved, fur button up, and fur light blue trousers. They're pajamas no matter how you look at it. If Aizawa-sensei wasn't lying through his shit eating grin again, this was your hero costume; the hero costume you apparently ordered three weeks ago that suited your quirk. This must be some kind of terrible, off timed joke. What kind of quirk did you have to have _pajamas_ as your costume? And the sleeping pills?

... were you supposed to overdose your enemies to death?

You dismiss the idea. This is hero school, you remind yourself. Not a school for murderers.

Then, these are for you it seems. You have no choice but to trust the Hitsuji Yumeko from three weeks ago, and the list of questions grows longer. Although, these pills are useless in your current state. You can't eat, much less chug these pills. These cloud pattered, white pajamas are useless too. Your hands reach out and sigh at the waste of these- woah.

The pajamas don't phase through you. Actually, it seems to glow that freaky spectral glow that you give off. Woah indeed. For the first time in a while, you're excited at the prospect of getting out of this Yuuei garb you've been wearing. You know you can shed off the clothing you've been wearing from all those sleepless nights you've experimented, but you're no exhibitionist ghost to walk around in the nude.

Pajamas at hand, you dash off to somewhere secluded to put those fuzzy bad boys on.

And boy are they _divine_.

Soft as a puppy, and as comfy as wearing nothing. Finally, something nice has happened to you. Praise the deities and three-weeks-ago Yumeko. You walk amongst your classmates with a giggle at the back of your throat and a proud grin on your face. You know you look ridiculous, and some of your classmates seem to notice that too, but you're way up in there to give much thought to it. Midoriya comes in last and steals a bit of attention away from you.

All Might is explaining something, but as usual, you drone out most of it. Indoor test, pairings by lottery, a two-on-two, heroes versus villains. Ochako gets paired with Midoriya and she says a few words, to which he reacts by bursting into a red blushing ball of nerves. You shake your head helplessly. They're such nice people, something you totally aren't. A fact you're grateful for, considering your team-up.

You're with Kirishima for the upcoming second battle, and you guys are villains. Todoroki and Shouji are the heroes to defeat you.

Something cynical within you quips that you're _perfect_ for the job. You ignore this and watch the first battle unfold. It's a battle you take interest in because you know three people there in a somewhat personal level. At least, that's what you try to tell yourself. Surely, it's not of the fact it's a Midoriya versus Bakugou battle; a battle that's sure to be disastrous, as personal feelings fly across the battlefield in the form of explosions and super powered punches. And it's mostly definitely not because you want to see prissy face Bakugou get his face pounded by the unassuming, but strong Midoriya he's been pushing around since forever. Well of course, that is supposing that they don't rip the objectivity of the exercise to cathartically beat each other up. You give them the benefit of the doubt. Who knows, who knows. Plus, it's not the reason why you're watching this battle, right?

Yeah. Right.

Minutes into solely staring at Bakugou exploding nitroglycerine sweat all over the place and Midoriya specifically, you're grinning wickedly. What a battle. His head is clouded with anger and you see Midoriya thinking quick on his feet. All Might is bellowing over the intercom, wanting the furious Bakugou to halt his violent rampage towards Midoriya, and your classmates are murmuring their own concerns too.

You walk forward towards the screen and watch intently. You see Ochako float herself, and this throws Iida off. However, he speeds off and throws Ochako off- quite in the literal sense. You hear All Might reprimand Bakugou for his reckless, life threatening attack, but makes no move to stop the homicide happening on the screen. Kirishima is protesting, and you're not really reacting like the others, but a thought lingers in your mind.

All the teachers here are crazy.

With how Midoriya isn't landing anything, and how Bakugou is landing almost everything, it's less of a battle and more of a brutal punishment game of some sort- and we're just watching. And commenting. Yaoyozoru and Todoroki are commenting like it's just another sports channel to watch.

This is ridiculous. Some of the students here were whack. You mull over this. Were you whack too?

"Can't say I like him, but if the kid's got talent, the kid's got talent," Kaminari offers his two cents offhandedly in Yaoyozoru's and Todoroki's informative commentary.

"Talent he's not using," you add. You ignore the way they flinch like they've never noticed you were there all along. "What we're seeing is just him throwing a tantrum like a rampaging man-baby. Like a vindictive little toddler. Like the devil's new born child. Like a- like an incarnation of-"

"Hitsuji?"

"Yeah?"

"We get it."

"Oh, okay."

* * *

 **VIII.**

A two-on-two. Hero versus villain. A battle of wits, strategy, and skill- something you're not sure you have. They say you gain all of this through years of practice and experience, but you guess you can screw that because your awareness only dates back to a few days ago. If anything, you're betting on the fact your stupid pride /hates/ losing, and being dead pretty much makes you hesitate less. This is the second battle of the day, and you and Kirishima head to your positions. He looks pretty confident with himself- the opposite of you.

"So, what's the plan?" You stand near the papier mache nuclear bomb of doom.

"Okay, here's the plan. The plan is, we beat Todoroki and Shouji, and end human civilization as we know it!" Kirishima finishes off with a supposedly sinister guffaw. You stare at him for a good several seconds. Todoroki and Shouji. Todoroki, the ice and fire boy who doesn't use the latter much. Shouji, the one who can replicate his body parts... anywhere. You secretly admit his quirk gives you the shivers. Secretly, you think Todoroki is one of the best students in class.

Not-so-secretly, you want to beat them.

"Right." You sinisterly bellow as well. Kirishima grins widely for following his antics. Who were you to be a wet blanket? You didn't have a plan to offer too. But, you did have an idea.

"Hey, so. You know how to fight?"

Kirishima looks at you incredulously. "Of course! My quirk is Harden-"

You interrupt him unintentionally. "Yeah, umm, I just want to say to be on the offensive. Or do whatever you want really." You guess it's the nerves.

"Oh... sure!" He agrees with a grin. "What do you plan on doing then, Hitsuji?"

You open your mouth, but you notice the ice crawling into the walls of the building. Your eyes narrow at the fast approaching cold. Damn Todoroki for having such a wide range. It's covering everywhere and within mere seconds, the building turns into a _freezer_.

Or at least, that's what you think how cold it is, judging by the smallest of tremble Kirishima is giving off. You see he's in his hardened mode and he's breaking the forming ice at his feet

"I'll be your support. I'll assist you." You whisper and he nods. Here goes nothing.

You step forward- _in front_ of Kirishima and take on what you think is a battle stance. Ridiculous, you think, considering your costume were pajamas. It's not hard to hear the surprised noise Kirishima made; he must think you're being ridiculous as well. If he was the offense and you were the support, what the hell are you doing in the front lines? You can practically hear him say. You swallow and glance at him, looking at him straight in the eye.

 _Trust me._

You pray that he does, because Todoroki is pacing towards the both of you, and you can't spare Kirishima second glance.

"I was hoping you guys would go for a defensive game," he looks at you and you narrow your eyes. "But no matter."

A slab of ice shoots forward, heading for Kirishima. Todoroki, it seems, was planning to take out the attacker in this battle from the start. You click your tongue. You can't him get the first hit; it might tip the balance to their favor. Left with no choice, you maneuver yourself and let the slab slam against your body. Inwardly, you wince and laugh vindictively. At the corner of your eye, you see Kirishima looking pleasantly surprised, while the opponent before you narrows his eyes. Making yourself sick with the countless trial and error to replicate that solidness you achieved once was definitely worth it.

You can control what can pass by you. You dictate what cannot.

"Kirishima, do your thing."

"Roger that!"

Kirishima leaps over the ice and brings his jagged fist down on Todoroki. But the enemy hero proves to be as slick as ice, as he hops backwards on nimble feet. Kirishima is left with a path of protruding ice to destroy to reach Todoroki. This is okay, you say. Kirishima is keeping Todoroki preoccupied, and the latter won't even attempt to attack you. You think that he kinda got the idea that physical attacks won't work on you. All you have to do is to not get them any closer until the time ends. You stand by on guard, in between the bomb and your partner.

You assess the situation once more and realize maybe, it's not okay.

You see Kirishima slowing down, movements getting a bit stiffer than before. You inch a bit closer to him. He's still bringing down one jagged first after the other on Todoroki's ice creations, but there was something amiss. What is it?

"Man, you're one tough cookie, aren'tcha?", Kirishima grits out. Todoroki smirks in return.

Then it hits you.

You remember the tremble of his fingers, the clatter of teeth when he grinned, and his visible white puffs of air. This is bad. It's only been a few minutes, but the cold was taking toll on your front liner. This is very bad.

You focus and look for an opening. You're looking for an opening to set the kill.

A kill that can take him out swiftly and surely.

Kirishima breaks the ice, and it's the precise moment you see your opening. You don't let the opportunity pass, and your throw yourself into their direction.

 _There!_

You slam your body against Todoroki and the thinned out stumps of ice, and he stumbles backwards. He seems mildly stunned. It seems like the cold is getting to him too. Wow. All this time you thought the cold never bothered him, but you guess it does. Nonetheless, Todoroki is relentless, and keeps attacking through stiff movements. You try to keep Todoroki at bay, but the queasiness makes itself known and you curse yourself. You're at your limit too, it seems. You're losing focus, and you're starting to accidentally let some ice debris pass through you.

It's now or never.

"Attack now!"

"I-I can't find an opening!", Kirishima hesitates. You have no time for that.

"You don't have to, just attack as if I wasn't there! Just- _Just trust me!_ "

Kirishima leaps with a mighty roar, and you release the metaphorical strings holding up your will to be solid. He brings forth an uppercut _through your gut_ and is homing straight to Todoroki's own. This is it. This is the winning moment. The both of you defeated the one and only Todoroki Shouto.

Wait a minute.

 _Only_ Todoroki?

 _"Shouji, now!"_

You sharply turn your head to the side, but you reacted a second too late. Fleshy arms grapple at Kirishima, and he's caught _way_ off guard. You're caught off guard too, as Shouji successfully captures your front liner in one swift movement.

"You're a prickly one..."

"... but we've successfully caught you," said Shouji's... hands. Kirishima lets out a series of garbled, muffled noises as Shouji's other hands restrain him.

Oh god. His hands are talking.

"I'll freeze the bomb," Todoroki quips and nods at Shouji."You apprehend Hitsuji."

Shouji uses one of his many arms to grab you, but you stand there and let his efforts phase through you. Yeah, screw that. You can't do anything and they can't do anything to you. Todoroki freezes the nuclear bomb, taking their win, and you watch it all happen.

So much for ending human civilization.


End file.
